


Break a Leg

by crotusprenntus



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Also scary, Blood, Cute, Death, Emotional(not clickbait!!!), F/F, First Meetings, Gore, I mean its dead by daylight what do you expect, girls
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-03-25 20:07:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13842066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crotusprenntus/pseuds/crotusprenntus
Summary: Meg Thomas makes a risky decision when she decides to take a short cut through the forest park in the middle of the night to get some snacks at the nearest 24 hour gas station.However, Meg's decision making skills are pretty damn atrocious, so it's almost no surprise when she ends up trapped and injured in a nightmarish complex with an evil entity.At least the girl she is stuck with is a total badass. And she’s kind of cute.





	1. I.

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is for my friends <3
> 
> love you comrade corner, leg, (insert airplane emoji), princess, and the bendiest straw of all

Meg Thomas knew it probably wasn't a good idea to leave her apartment in the wee hours of the night to get snacks at the nearest 24 hour gas station. She didn't quite live in the safest neighborhood, and she would have to walk since the buses didn't run this late. However, that didn't stop her from putting the conspiracy theory show she was currently watching on pause, tugging on her tattered pinkish jacket, and stuffing her feet into her off-white sneakers as she headed out of her apartment. 

Meg also knew it was definitely a bad idea to take the route through the woods, but she had left her front door unlocked and this way was a lot quicker. While she had run this path plenty of times safely during the day, she was aware that this part of the town typically turned into a prime time area for thugs and drugs after hours.

But, she thought with an air of confidence, she figured she had faced much worse growing up. This was just a stroll in the park, comparatively. And literally, Meg noted as she passed a graffiti laden play-structure, now commandeered by a couple of teenagers smoking cigarettes.

If she did find herself in any trouble, Meg would just do what she does best: run away at the breakneck speed that earned her blue ribbons when she was still in track. At best, she would be home in less than fifteen minutes with all the Doritos she could carry. At worst, she might stumble into a homeless camp. And if possibly running into an angry hobo in the forest meant shutting up her rumbling stomach and getting back to her lumpy couch ASAP, she was all for it.

What Meg didn't know was that there was something much worse than anything she could ever face in the real world lurking in those trees as she wandered deeper into the forest.

She hadn't even been walking for a minute when the fog rolled in. 

Meg wearily looked right and left as the thick mist filled the forest, overcoming her vision and drowning her senses. She picked up her pace to light jog, shaking her head nervously as she pushed blindly through the haze. 

Thankfully, the fog began to thin out as quickly as it had approached, and there, through the trees, she finally spotted the familiar outline and blaring logo of a gas station.

Except this gas station happened to be completely run down and trashed, despite it having been up, running, and selling delicious donuts the previous day. 

Meg squinted as she approached it. She thought she had cut through the forest park to head directly towards the 7/11 she always passed on her usual route to work, but she was currently standing in front of a Gas Heaven, located in the middle of the fucking woods. Where the fuck was the 7/11?? And what kind of off-brand shit is a Gas Heaven? 

"What the hell?" 

Meg couldn't help but voice her concerns as she passed the gas pumps with an air of caution, pulling the hood up on her pink jacket and stuffing her hands into her pockets. The door to the station blew open and closed in the wind, and as she approached the broken window to look inside, everything inside was empty except for scattered magazines and other random junk.

She backed away from the building, a few alarm bells going off in her head. If she wanted to avoid any territorial hobos, loitering around an abandoned gas station was sure to get her a good shanking.

Meg took a second to glance around her. She must've taken a wrong turn at some point. That was the only logical explanation. She got lost in the fog, and accidentally landed herself at an abandoned gas station. No problem, she just needed to head back the way she came... 

Meg turned around and made a full circle, her eyebrows knitting in confusion and frustration. She really fucking must have made a wrong turn because now it kind of looked like she had stumbled into the middle of a junkyard. At this point, running into a homeless person didn't seem so bad compared to some of the other things that could be lurking out here. Shit was looking straight out of a horror movie. 

As if right on cue, Meg became acutely aware of her heart beginning to pound faintly in her chest. She spun around in another circle as she tried to catch sight of... well, she wasn't quite sure. The junkyard seemed okay upon first glance, and nothing looked too out of the ordinary. But it was a deep, guttural instinct that kept Meg quiet and cautious as she scanned the area.

And there, in the distance, Meg caught sight of a large, lumbering figure move among the piles of trash. He moved with a sense of purpose, occasionally stopping scanning the area with an angled head, as if he were listening for something before carrying on. 

Even though he was a long ways off, Meg could see it in his posture, and in his every calculated movement; he was not simply rummaging around through the trash absent mindedly, or having a nice little nightly stroll. 

He was looking for something, or someone.

He was hunting. 

Meg didn't even need to see him to confirm it. She could feel it in every ounce of her being, like a disturbing sense of impending doom. She could feel it the way she could hear her own damn heart beating out of her chest. 

All it took was one wrong move. In her trance, Meg had backed up a few paces and knocked over an old aluminum can of Diet Coke, sending it clattering like a bombshell in a war zone. 

Meg flinched, her whole body tense as she looked up to see that the dark figure had stopped searching. He was now facing her direction, and that's when she noticed the giant fucking cleaver in his hand and the demented looking mask covering his face. For a few moments, the two stared at each other, unmoving. And then he began taking large strides towards her, arms swinging and his intent clear. 

Meg turned and blindly took off in the direction she came from in the beginning, sprinting like she had never sprinted before. She wasn't sure if her heart was pounding from the strain, or from that thing rapidly gaining on her. 

"Oh my fuck," she squeaked out as she risked a look behind her, seeing that he had already halved the distance between them. She faced forward once more to become aware of a large impassable brick wall blocking her path, which she knew for a fact had not been there when she stumbled into this place.

She veered away from the wall, quickly shaking her head as she tried to clear the confusion from her mind. She settled into a more quick and agile pace, allowing years of muscle memory and repetition to take over as she jumped walls like hurtles at track practice, and rounded corners like she was late for a class at college. 

After she was semi-sure she had put enough distance between herself and the monster and she knew she was out of its direct line of sight, she threw herself up against a broken down wall, holding her hands over her mouth to help quiet and steady her breathing. She tried not to think too much about the horrifying looking meat hook sitting just a few feet from her, and willed the loud heartbeat to go away with all her might. There was a couple of tense seconds where she could hear his loud footsteps clomp around, and a loud crash as he knocked something over, but thankfully, he came nowhere near her hiding spot. 

Soon enough, her heartbeat gradually became quieter until it faded away altogether and she was left in absolute silence. She let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding, placing her hands on top of her head to reassure herself that she didn't lose her favorite baseball cap while she had been running for her god damn life. 

"Thank god I joined cross country," Meg sighed, placing her hands on her strong thighs as she properly stood up, wiping a hand across her forehead. If it weren't for her love for keeping in shape and her competitive athletic nature, she definitely would have been a goner back there. She was never really one for school or books, but as long as she had her legs, Meg was confident she could evade any danger. 

Speaking about danger, she needed to get the hell out of this place, pronto. Meg shook out each of her limbs and rolled her neck, taking a few calming deep breaths before proceeding with caution in the direction of the tall brick wall she came across, scanning the junkyard ahead in caution.

She found the brick wall easily enough. 

"Who the fuck put this wall here?"

Meg was sure she hadn't passed it on her way into this place, but it blocked her path from returning home.

It was too slick to attempt to scale, and too tall to pile up enough junk to get out. Not to mention the daunting spikes that topped it. So, getting over the wall was out of the question. Stumped, Meg searched her pockets for her phone, thankful she didn't lose it in her mad dash away from the crazy dude. 

She stared down at the black screen, pushing a few buttons and smacking the screen a couple of times for good measure, but no luck. The fuck? It was fully charged when she left. Well, scratch calling the authorities, and add a new phone to the grocery list. 

Maybe there was a way around it, Meg pondered as her attention was brought back to the wall before her. She looked left, and then looked right, shrugging as she picked a direction at random, her hand trailing along the wall as she walked. 

She walked for minutes, each step further filling her with doubt. Finally, she came across something other than the stupid brick wall: a large metal door that spelled the possibility of freedom. Meg ran for the door, first attempting to pry it open with her hands, but to no avail. Then she noticed the large lever to the left and pulled it down and up a couple of times, but no luck there either. 

Meg pressed her hands to her head for a few seconds, taking a few paces back to look at the door in frustration and helplessness. She shook her head and quickly deduced she just must've picked the wrong direction, and doubled back the way she came from. There had to be a way around it. There was no way she got into this place without going around it. Right??

Meg strayed from the wall on her way back, bravely venturing a little deeper into the dump in hopes of maybe finding something helpful, or spotting a familiar landmark. She occasionally looked up while she rooted around in the garbage to make sure the wall was within sight at all times, as well as constantly scanning the area for the scary figure from earlier. 

However, it turned out to be a bit of a bust. All she found was a small flashlight missing its batteries hidden among stacks upon stacks of old newspapers, and a broken generator that had been hidden behind a wooden pallet. She was still stuck in this junkyard with nowhere to go but to follow the wall and hope for a way out. 

Meg shook her head which was full of worried thoughts, glancing across the junkyard distractedly as she walked by a patch trees, trekking through an inconspicuous patch of tall grass. 

She heard it a split second before she felt it, and she understood her mistake instantly. There was a click under her foot, and then a snap as something tore into her leg, grinding against her bones with a crunch. She lurched forward and screamed out, staggering as she fell to one knee. 

Barely daring to look down, Meg whimpered through labored breaths as she saw the bloody contraption clamped around her leg. Tears already began to streak her face as she bit down on the sleeve of her jacket, her other hand flapping around as she stared down at her leg. 

"Oh my god holy shit ouch holy jesus fucking ow," Meg moaned a slew of words, steeling herself as she gasped for breath, reaching down with shaky hands to try to release her leg from the bear trap. 

The mother fucking bear trap. Her leg was actually stuck in a god damn bear trap. What the fuck. 

Every little movement sent a shock of pain up her leg, sending stars to her vision. She retracted her hands from the trap and proceeded to have another internal freak out, digging her palms into her eyes and beginning to hyperventilate. 

And as if things couldn't get worse, her heartbeat began to pick up, quietly at first, but progressively getting louder with every passing moment. 

Meg began to claw at the trap madly, biting her lip until she could taste blood as she cried openly, desperate to get away. She gave up as another wave of agony rippled through her and she looked up and around wildly, trying to determine what direction that fucking crazed asshole would be coming from. 

Something small and lithe darted towards her and Meg raised her arms to protect her head, shouting in fear, pain, and finally surprise as she came face to face with a light-skinned woman with short dark hair and dark eyes to match. Her face was remarkably pale, but her jaw was set with grim determination as she gripped the bear trap without warning and wrenched it open. 

Meg gave a sharp cry of relief as the trap came away from her leg. Instantly, she jumped to her feet to run away, only to crumple back to the ground. Fear shook her to the core as she struggled to get up and try again, but before she could the woman gripped her by the upper arm and dragged her into the grass. 

"Shut up," she hissed in Meg's ear, her voice low and hushed. 

Meg opened her mouth to protest, but apparently the woman was in no mood to compromise as she clamped one hand on top of her mouth and snaked her arm around Meg's waist, pulling her into cover on the shadowy side of a large tree.

And not a second too soon, as loud footsteps accompanied the rapid pulse of the heartbeat. The woman pulled Meg flush to her body as they hunkered further down for cover, and Meg flinched at the ratcheting sound as the monster reset the bear trap somewhere just behind them. 

Every fiber in her being was telling her to run, but the woman gave her a squeeze, as if she could tell what Meg was thinking and was warning her against it. 

Then the killer rounded the tree, narrowly missing the two people hiding just under his bloody boots. He scanned the area, breathing heavily under his mask as he tightened his grip on his weapon, fresh blood dripping off the metal. Meg closed her eyes at the gruesome image of the twisted bits of rebar and shrapnel in his arm and shoulder, and held her breath as the foul smell of death and decay assaulted her nose. 

Finally, he snapped his head towards the call of a distant crow and took long, heavy strides in that general direction. Again, her heartbeat began decreasing as the killer drew further away. Meg began to stir restlessly as silence filled the junkyard, but the woman tightened her grip once more, effectively keeping Meg in place. 

As time went on, Meg became more and more aware that she was still literally spooning a stranger and how much her leg freaking hurt. After what felt like an eternity, the woman let go. Meg pulled away quickly, her hands instantly going to her leg as she put pressure on the heavily bleeding punctures. 

"Are you fucking stupid?" 

"What?" It took a second for Meg to look up from her bloody predicament, staring at the woman in shock. 

The short haired woman had already picked herself off the ground and dusted off her clothes and hands (which was really no improvement, because she still looked like she had just rolled around in a pile of dirt). Now she was glaring down at Meg, a permanent scowl etched across her face. 

"You! Running around with your thumb up your ass, having a fucking staring contest with the damn killer! Then walking all la-dee-dah, straight through a patch of tall grass without looking down and stepping in a-" 

"Excuse me; at least I'm not lecturing someone while they're actively bleeding out!" Meg bit back fiercely, outraged that this person could even think to berate her at a time like this. 

"I've seen worse." She replied icily, but quickly dropped the issue as she kneeled down to take a look at Meg's leg, her hands reaching out. 

"Don't touch it!" Meg tried to wiggle away, groaning as the endorphins and adrenaline rush left her feeling some of the worst pain she had ever felt in her life. Not the absolute worst, because when she was in the third grade she broke her collar bone on a trampoline and that was definitely the worst pain she had ever felt, but this really ranked up there.

"If you don't let me look, I can't help you." She stood up sharply, putting her hands on her hips and looking around in exasperation, as if she had somewhere better to be. 

"Shouldn't we be calling the cops or something?? Nine-one-one?" Meg was having a hard time believing that they were still just sitting here having a conversation while dude setting up fucking bear traps was running around on the loose. 

She looked down sharply at Meg, an inquisitive look on her face. "...Have you checked your phone recently?" 

"Mine's dead. Do you have yours?" 

The woman made a face. "Yeah, but it's dead too. Just like everyone else's."

Meg found that comment a little odd, but didn't say anything as she dug around in her pockets, pulling out her phone and once again coming face to face with the lifeless screen. Her eyebrows turned down in confusion of her iPhone. It was in (mostly) working condition, but this was just stupid. She wanted to throw it. 

"How long have you been in this junk yard?" She asked as she crouched back down next to her. The woman’s dark eyes stared her up and down, and Meg tried not to feel self-conscious. 

"I... I don't know. At least half an hour?" Meg estimated meekly. 

“Oh. Shit." The woman shook her head, biting her lip, looking a bit remorseful for a second. Meg's eyes jumped down to her lips for just a moment before quickly averting her stare. 

"Listen. We can't call an ambulance or the authorities. You're hurt pretty bad, and you're not going anywhere anytime soon. The Trapper is still wandering around here somewhere, and is likely to come back. I know you don't want my help, but you need it. Will you let me look?" 

Meg sized up the short haired woman, who for the first time was speaking with some true sincerity for the first time since they met. She had given her no reason NOT to trust her so far. Sure, she was a bit scraggly and honestly a bit suspicious, but there were worse people to be stuck with in a junkyard with a murderer. Hell, the woman had risked her own life and to pull her out of a bear trap with her bare hands.

Reluctantly, Meg pulled herself into an upright position, taking her hands off her leg. The woman took this as the go ahead, and with quick movements, she pulled the cuff of Meg's sweatpants up to her knee, assessing the damage.

"Ow! Fuck, what kind of medical training do you have?" Meg yelped in an accusatory voice as the woman none-too-gently ripped a piece of her pink flannel and tied it as tight as she could around Meg's wounds.

This caused the woman to let out a short, bemused laugh, looking up to stare Meg in the eyes, amusement sketched across her face. "I don't think you'd appreciate the answer to that question."

Meg huffed and looked away, feeling a little abashed at the woman's response coupled with her sharp gaze. With everything that's happened in the past half hour, she didn't have the strength to come up with a reply, just shaking her head and trying to focus on anything else but the rather attractive person feeling up and down her leg and the pain.

"What's your name?" She asked, seemingly satisfied with the makeshift bandage, moving closer to Meg's side.

"...Meg."

"Think you can stand up, Meg?"

Meg stared at her incredulously. "Not without crutches or something."

The woman put her hands on her knees and stood up. She then held out her hand, a half smile stretching across her face. 

"I'm Nea. I'll be your 'or something'."

The walk was slow and grueling. Meg slumped against Nea feverishly as they trekked across the junkyard. All previous thoughts swirling around Meg's brain were gone as she focused all her energy into getting somewhere moderately safe.

Finally, they stopped in front of an old, rusty school bus. It was missing all its wheels and most of the inside was gutted, but the doors were still intact as Nea pushed them open and helped Meg up the steep stairs.

"I made a vow never to step foot in another school bus when I graduated high school. But they make pretty a pretty good shelter when you're trapped in a junkyard," Nea said as she helped situate Meg on the cold metal floor, elevating her legs on a ripped bus seat. 

"Small talk? From you?" Meg's smile quickly diminished as Nea scowled at her. She sat sideways on one of the uncomfortable bench seats, tucked her legs to her chest and rested her folded arms on her knees. For a couple of moments, Nea looked truly exhausted. Not just tired, but completely worn out, like a dish towel that had been used and wrung out too many times, hanging limp from a hook. 

Meg knew that look. It was the same way her mother looked after coming home late from her second job, letting the plastic door to the trailer home slam loudly before collapsing onto the couch, slinging her arms over her face and not moving for a very, very long time.

"I've never been on a school bus before," Meg ventured to say, staring straight up at the browning ceiling. "The bus didn't make stops at the trailer park we were living in, so I walked. Or ran, depending on if it was raining or if I was late."

Nea nodded, but didn't add to the conversation. She looked like she regretted saying anything in the first place, which slightly disappointed Meg. 

"...What did you mean by trapped? I mean, there's a way around that wall, right? We can just walk out of here. After we've rested for a little bit, of course."

Nea grimaced, shifting uncomfortably. "Not exactly. It's a lot more complicated than that. In fact, it's kind of going to be hard to believe." 

"Well, with all that's happened tonight, I'm open to believing anything. Just tell me. We need to get the hell out of this place." Meg sighed, fidgeting on the floor and trying to ignore the ever present smell of rotting garbage. 

Nea dropped her legs down and scooted to the edge of the bus seat, leaning forward and fixing her dark eyes on Meg. 

"Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you so."


	2. II.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter for u guys, go nuts <3

It took some time for Nea to explain to Meg what exactly this place was, and it took Meg much longer to fully believe it. Especially since she couldn't walk around the entire junkyard and see for herself that they really were completely trapped in this place- whatever the fuck this place even was.

"I’m gonna go make my rounds; try to meet up with some of the other survivors. Someone might have something better than just a little bit of fabric for your leg.” Nea said, standing up abruptly from the bus seat she had been lazing back on.

"What about me?" Meg tried to sit up, but Nea quickly stood and placed a hand on her shoulder, effectively pushing her back down. 

"Relax, you'll be fine. I'll haul some plywood or some other junk in front of the bus door so no comes in. Just try get some rest and keep your leg elevated." 

Meg didn't protest, but she eyed Nea doubtfully, wondering how the woman found the courage to go on. If it were all up to her, she would probably never leave the safety of the bus. 

"Be careful." Meg said softly as Nea pushed open the doors to the bus, and the woman rolled her eyes. 

"I wouldn't be alive if I wasn't."

"Okay smartass, forget I said anything then." Meg retorted, which drew a short laugh out of Nea. She pushed the doors closed carefully and heaved a large wooden pallet over the door to discourage anyone from trying to enter the bus. Then she waved goodbye to Meg through the glass with a small smile and a peace sign as she crouched down and slunk away stealthily. 

Meg scoffed and shook her head, laying back down and closed her troubled eyes, trying to force her face and body to relax. But sleep never came. Just a constant state of anxiety that became too much too soon, until she was sitting up in one of the seats drumming her fingers on the walls of the bus. Her eyes scanned across the expanse of garbage as she sat alert, reflecting on the troublesome conversation she just shared with the woman. 

According to Nea, it was up to them and the other survivors to repair the busted generators scattered around the junkyard in order to power and unlock the big metal doors so they could leave. All with a demented murderer on the loose with one single objective: to kill anyone attempting to escape.

All in all, it was a lot to take in. It sounded crazy. It was crazy. But what Meg had witnessed alone was more than enough to convince her that she really was trapped in some sort of twisted reality, far away from her comfy hole-in-the-wall apartment. 

For one, there was the Trapper. While it was all too easy just to pretend he was your average run-of-the-mill cleaver wielding serial killer, he was so much more than that. He stood at an uncanny height of perhaps seven feet tall and pursued his prey with unsurmountable determination and ability. The nearly crippling fear she felt inside her guts and the way her heart seized in her chest when he grew close was enough for her to believe in anything she had once doubted.

Then there was her shitty phone, which continued to refuse to turn on. That's apparently what happened to all electronics that made their way into this dimension. Meg kept it tucked in her pocket for sentimental purposes. It felt wrong leaving it behind, despite it having the same purpose as a brick. Nea still had her phone too, but only "just in case". 

And lastly, there was the endless, everlasting night. Despite the seconds she counted and the minutes she knew were passing by, the moon sat frozen and unmoving in the sky. She felt like it was taunting her as she stared up at it through the broken bus windows as Nea tried her best to explain the situation at hand. 

But when it came down to the point, Meg begrudgingly accepted the fact that this was definitely a thing that was happening. There was absolutely no running away from this time. She knew two things: She was stuck here whether she liked it or not (she didn't) and she was determined to get the hell out of here as soon as possible.

\--- 

And that's how it went. It was infuriating how her body ached with the feeling of being tired, but at the same time, she was wide awake. The way her mouth felt dry, but thirst was not a priority in her mind, and how her stomach yearned at the thought of food, but hunger did not claw at the walls of her insides. 

It was this damn place. It was artificial, and it only became more apparent to Meg as time went on. And oh, did time go on. 

"How long have you been here?" Meg asked Nea as she lounged back in an old tire, watching her newfound friend rummage around in a toolbox for something or other. 

"Weeks, I think. Kind of hard to tell without actual time." Nea crouched down next to the busted generator that sat sadly against the side of their bus, fiddling with the wires inside. 

Their bus. It was funny how Meg already thought of it as such in her mind, but it was hard not to as it had become their residential hide out since Meg hurt her leg. It was one of the safest places in the yard, as the Trapper didn't really have a lot of business to do inside an old bus. There had been a couple of close calls as he occasionally stormed right up to the bus to give the generator a few well placed kicks before heading off into the night.

The first time it happened, Meg nearly had a heart attack. She had been alone and defenseless, crammed underneath the bus seats and trembling, where she hid for what felt like eons until Nea came back from her regular trip from across the junkyard.

There also weren’t many survivors that came to this side of the junkyard, and Nea prefered it that way. While Meg had been curious about meeting some of the others, Nea was way more on the cautionary side. The less interactions, the better, she had said. Meg wasn’t quite sure if she agreed, as she had once watched a trio work together to shuffle through the trash a fair ways away from the bus, perhaps looking for generator parts. Meg felt compelled to meet up with them. Safety in numbers, right? Nea didn’t seem to think so. But that was an argument for another time. There were much more important matters at hand. 

"Have you had to pee yet?" Meg wondered out loud. "Cause I haven't had to yet and I get the feeling I've been here for at least a couple days and I kind of chugged a liter of mountain dew before I got abducted or whatever so my bladder should definitely be ready to like, implode by now." 

Nea looked away from the generator to throw her perhaps the driest look Meg had ever seen. 

"Just wondering," Meg smiled innocently, holding her hands up in a harmless gesture. 

"I don't appreciate the distraction," Nea grumbled, turning her focus back to the generator. "You're supposed to be the look out while I work on this."

"Right," Meg said a bit guiltily, sitting up straight and checked the junkyard. Satisfied that no scary masked monsters seemed to be in their general vicinity, Meg took the opportunity to stand and stretch, limping over to watch Nea work over her shoulder. 

Nea didn’t say anything, but she shifted away from Meg a little as she carefully flicked a couple of wires together in an attempt to spark something.

Meg leaned back and tried not to feel offended as she frowned down at her friend, who was scowling at the broken generator before her. 

When they had first decided to make the bus home base, Nea didn't bother trying to fix it, claiming it had too many missing parts and was virtually unrepairable. There were other generators that were much closer to being turned on or that were running and needed to be maintained, and this one was a bit of a lost cause. However, Meg made the point that they didn't know how many generators they needed to turn on in order to power the doors (supposing that they even did power the doors), and it would be a mistake to leave the hardest one for last. 

"Why don't you make yourself useful and look around for something that might be helpful? Nuts, bolts, screws, springs, pretty much anything that remotely looks like it could help." Nea made a shooing motion at her.

Meg's lip turned out further in a pout. Rooting around in the garbage did not sound like a lot of fun in the moment. Plus, she was tired of being left behind when Nea went to take care of her business, sitting and waiting anxiously for something to happen. She wanted to be helpful and do everything she could to get out of here. Occasionally, she assessed the broken generator while Nea was gone, but she didn't really know where to start with it.

"...Actually, I was hoping... Well, can you teach me how to fix these things?" Meg ventured to ask, fiddling with her hands. 

"No," was Nea's immediate flat response as she continued to tinker away inside the generator. 

"Well why the fuck not?" Meg snapped, frustrated with Nea's shortness today. Meg knew by now it was part of Nea’s personality to be easily irritable and rude at times, but this was over the top.  
Nea had come back from patrolling the junkyard and immediately settled into working on the generator instead of coming to check on Meg, and her attitude was even more shit than usual. Meg wondered briefly if something had happened to Nea while she was out, but she knew the woman well enough not ask. 

"These things are finicky as fuck. If you have someone who doesn't know what they're doing working on them, they can explode in your face. Which makes a hell of a racket. Which everyone across the entire junkyard can hear, including the Trapper." 

"You can't expect me never to learn! What happens if you don't come back one day? How am I supposed to get out of here?" Meg threw her arms in the air in exasperation. 

Nea tore her eyes away from the generator for a moment, cold displeasure written all over her face as she looked up at Meg, the two staring at each other for a few moments, annoyance radiating off the both of them.

Then, unpredictably, the generator finally began to chug to life, spitting and hissing until it gave an ugly pop. Nea retracted her hands from the generator as if she were burnt and flinched back as a puff of smoke flew into her face. 

"Shit!" Meg froze as Nea jumped to her feet, the two of them wildly looking around the junkyard. It remained incredibly still, but Meg didn’t trust for a second that no one had heard their argument and the mini explosion. 

Meg started for the bus, limping as quickly as she could manage, but a warm hand enclosed around her forearm and pulled her back. 

“Not safe,” Nea rasped, clearing her throat and wiping her stinging eyes from the generator’s smoke as she tugged Meg away. 

“But-” Meg was cut off by her heartbeat beginning to pick up, and Nea must’ve felt it too because she picked up the pace, almost dragging Meg behind her as she ripped open the door to a dumpy large red cabinet, pushing Meg inside.

Immediately, Meg wanted out, but Nea didn’t give her much of a choice as she placed her hand on the middle of Meg’s chest and pushed her back in as Nea squeezed into the locker, pressed way too close for comfort, and pulled the door shut behind her. 

It was dark, and all that could be heard was Meg’s panicky noises, Nea’s quiet cursing, and their heartbeats pulsing louder and louder in their chests. Then their eyes began to adjust to the dark, and the duo peeked out of the slits of the locker and waited with bated breath for the Trapper to inevitably appear. 

He came from behind, walking past the locker by about two feet as he charged into their clearing, staring at the abandoned generator with obvious rage. He turned slowly, scanning the area for any obvious signs as to where his prey might’ve hidden. And immediately started towards the bus. Their bus. 

Then he stomps the pallet protecting the entrance as if it’s nothing but popsicle sticks, and boards the bus. He checks behind the seats and under them, swinging his cleaver and smashing a window with brute force in displeasure. 

Meg flinches at the noise, pressing her hands against her mouth to keep herself quiet. She realizes distantly that she’s trembling, and Nea must notice too because she slowly slings an arm around Meg’s waist, careful not to startle her. 

The two continue to watch the Trapper search the rest of the clearing haphazardly, and there’s a moment where his eyes land on the red locker. He started towards it, arms swinging with a vengeance. Meg and Nea, who had been peering through the cracks, both backed against the back of the cabinet. Then Nea shuffled Meg behind her to shield her as best as she could, and the two braced themselves for the locker doors to be torn off their hinges. 

Halfway to the locker, the generator unpredictably gave another dying puff, and the Trapper stopped, his head turning towards the noise. The locker forgotten, he kicked the generator to a pulp and pulled out a bear trap, setting it up in a small patch of grass right in the middle of the path. 

He takes one last look around, breathing heavily underneath his wicked mask, before stalking off into the night, undoubtedly on the hunt once again.

Slowly, Meg’s heartbeat slows to its normal gentle rhythm. She blows out a long sigh against the back of Nea’s neck. Nea turns around awkwardly in the cramped space of the locker so they’re facing each other, and Meg slides down until she’s sitting with her knees tucked against her chest. Nea joins her a moment later, and Meg doesn’t realize she’s crying until she feels the drips fall on her chest. 

“Nea, I’m so sorry, God I’m so stupid,” she whispered and groaned into her sleeves, trying to wipe away the tears, but they kept coming. “I shouldn’t have bothered you. Totally my fault.”  
Meg sniffed, pulling her hat down over her face as a broken laugh shuddered through her. “And now I can’t stop crying.” 

Meg looked up from under the brim of her hat after a moment to try and get a read on Nea’s thoughts. The woman was shaking her head and looking rather regretful, her face twisted with emotion. 

“It’s not your fault. I was being an asshole. I just- I ran into some shit earlier, and I took it out on you,” Nea admitted. 

“...What kind of shit?” Meg asked, leaning her head against the back of the locker and closing her eyes for a brief moment, which were stinging and tired from her little crying tyraid. 

“This wasn’t my first encounter with the Trapper today. Ran into him earlier and got chased halfway across the junkyard,” Nea revealed, and despite the darkness of the closet, Meg could see the pale sheen to her friend’s face as she relived the terrifying experience. 

“Sometimes, I feel like the only reason I get away is because of luck. I mean, a lot of it is skill due to many years of tagging buildings and getting chased by cops. But a lot of the time, it’s sheer, unpredictable luck. Like how our generator popped and distracted him.” 

Meg tried not to let this ‘luck’ confession horrify her. Apparently Nea wasn’t as put together as Meg had first thought. She always kind of saw the woman as untouchable; equal parts agile and strong, with street smarts to get her out of tight situations. 

“I think you don’t give yourself enough credit,” Meg said, but Nea didn’t look too convinced. 

Silence.

Then, “You do graffiti?” 

Nea cracked a dry smile. “Yeah, that’s kind of my thing. It’s also how I ended up here.” 

Meg perked up at that. “Elaborate, please.” 

“I was doing my signature on an abandoned asylum. Someone must’ve seen me, called the authorities, and I tried to lose them through the forest. Then the fog came.” 

“Well, that’s better than how my dumb ass ended up here. I was going to get late night snacks at my local gas station, and took a shortcut through the woods because my fat ass couldn’t just wait a couple more minutes for food.” 

“Wow. Dumb ass, and fat ass.” 

Meg laughs, and it’s loud, and genuine. Nea shushes her and warns her to keep quiet, since the Trapper may or may not still be in the area, but her dark eyes crinkle with amusement and mirth, and Meg feels a flare of delight in her chest. 

And when Nea suggests they don’t leave the locker immediately, ‘just in case’, Meg is grateful that the darkness and her hat hides her flushed face as the two ‘get more comfortable’, as Meg settles between Nea’s legs and leans her back against Nea’s chest, not too unlike the position they were in the first time they met. 

When they leave the closet a few hours later, Nea rubs the back of her neck sheepishly as they untangle themselves, watching Meg stretch her arms above her head and uncramp her legs. 

“Hey, come ‘ere.” 

Meg looked over curiously, and Nea was crouched over the generator, assessing the damage. 

“So, it’s best to start with the basic gears, screws and bolts rather than the internal workings, because figuring out which wire goes where is a bitch, so…” 

Meg tried paying attention, she really did. But the way Nea’s eyebrows knitted with focus, and how lean arms messed with the parts, and that damn streak of black oil across her forehead… 

Meg couldn’t contain her heart eyes, staring at Nea fondly as she nodded along to whatever she was saying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tell me what u guys thinnnnkkkkk ;))))


End file.
